Scriptural Sermons

Jesus was always one to bring the party. All he had to do was show up, and lots of others showed up too -- eager for engagement, eager for excitement, eager for something new. It was little wonder. Here at last was someone who had something to say. Something different. Something provocative. Something truthful. Jesus had a way of uttering truths that had never been uttered before, but at the same time, were strangely recognizable. And it was happening once again. Once again, Jesus had brought the party. He showed up at the house of Mary and Martha, and suddenly the place was filled with men who immediately took their place at his feet. This gesture was an indicator that they were ready and willing disciples. They wanted him to teach them. And so he began to teach. That was Martha’s cue. She sprang into action. After Jesus’ teaching, it would be fellowship hour, and as we all know, fellowship hour is predicated upon food. And in ancient times, you couldn’t rely on your reserves from Costco. Feeding a room full of men was labor intensive. Animals had to be slaughtered and dressed. Bread had to be baked. Water had to hauled. Martha went directly to work, expecting Mary to fall in place behind her. But what did Mary do? She went and sat at Jesus’ feet with the men -- shirking her role, defying expectations, and leaving Martha to shoulder the burden alone. I can imagine Martha’s frustration. I can imagine her passive aggressive attempts to get Mary back in the kitchen. Staring daggers at her from the threshold. Uttering loud sighs as indicators of her strain. Dropping pottery on the floor to startle Mary to awareness. But Mary took no notice. None whatsoever. Martha should have counted to ten. How much strife could be averted if we could all just remember to count to ten, or perhaps twenty. Martha for her part shot like a rocket from outrage to outburst. “I’m doing all the work in here Jesus, while Mary has yet to raise a finger. It’s hardly fair. And have you even noticed? Do you even care?” And there was doubtless more to it than the fact that Martha had to provide all the hospitality on her own. There too was the fact of what Mary was doing. She not day dreaming or singing idly out the window. She was sitting at Jesus’ feet. She was in there with the men. Martha was doubtless chagrined and embarrassed that Mary did not know her place. It certainly did not reflect well on the family. But Jesus did not vindicate Martha. Jesus chastised her, “Martha, Martha,” (and when someone says your name twice, wait for some kind of a correction to follow) “Why are you so distracted and stressed and scattered? Let it go. Mary’s right where she should be.” We’re left to wonder how Martha felt at that point. I bet she wasn’t happy. She simply didn’t get it or she would not have reacted that way in the first place. Now normally this text is interpreted as a caution against busyness. Martha with all her busyness is a prototype that we should avoid. Not that productivity is a bad thing. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop after all. But there’s a certain kind of busyness that’s not good. It’s when we become enmeshed with worldly or personal concerns and address them with obsessive application – application that mixes with pride, competition, insecurity. It becomes a kind of self-perpetuating force. And it causes us to lose all perspective. It causes us to become disoriented. We forget that we’re supposed to be at Jesus’ feet – his disciples, listening to him. And this is a fair enough interpretation, but I think there’s something else here. An elephant in the living room. Mary was right where she should be. She was at Jesus’ feet, his disciple, listening to him. But Mary was, obviously, a woman. Women did not seat themselves at the feet of rabbis. Women were not disciples. All they needed to know was taught to them by their mothers. Women did not sit side by side with men learning. It was unheard of. It was forbidden. And yet Jesus told Martha that Mary was right where she should be. Her place was with the men. Really Jesus? A woman’s place is with the men? Really Jesus? In first century Judaism? Jesus was a revolutionary and a radical, and don’t ever forget it. All down through history and even to this day there has an unspoken and inviolable code. It could be expressed as a variant of a line from the wedding ceremony. What society has divided, let no one unite. And Jesus was saying the polar opposite. A women’s place is with the men. Think about what this means by extension. Women, your place is with the men. Men, your place is with the women. Whites, your place is with blacks. Blacks your place is with whites. The wealthy, your place is with the poor, and the poor, your place is with the wealthy. The powerful, your place is with the powerless. The powerless, your place is with the powerful. The old, your place is with the young. The young, your place is with the old. Jesus was smashing down all dividing walls. His disciples are to be completely and utterly integrated. This is simply too radical, simply too revolutionary. But that’s who Jesus was. This is why he brought the party. It’s because he spoke God’s truth. Disciples are to be completely and utterly integrated, and this in service to humankind that is to be completely and utterly integrated. That all should be one. But this is so radical and revolutionary that it is very seldom approximated. It’s too hard. But is it really? Is it really that hard to forge the way? Is it really that hard to reach out? Is it really that hard to cross the aisle? To be vulnerable? To be risky? To be open? To be accepting? To be understanding? One thing’s for sure. It’s a lot easier than hanging on a cross in faith it could be so. Amen.

As newly called conscripts, Jesus’ disciples made up a decidedly ragtag corps. Jesus’ first conscripts were Peter and his brother Andrew. Peter and Andrew were, as we all know, fishermen. It’s safe to conclude that Peter was the dominant brother. Peter was always the one to take the lead. He was always the first to speak up. And he was always right at Jesus’ side. In fact, for many key parts of Jesus’ ministry, Andrew was nowhere to be found. He was probably sick of being in Peter’s shadow all the time. No doubt he had been there his whole life long. Jesus’ next conscripts were James and his brother John. Again, they were fishermen. James and John were nicknamed the Sons of Thunder. They must have been fishermen with attitudes. And their attitudes toward Peter and Andrew could only have been competitive. How could it be otherwise? Two sets of brothers? Both sets fishermen? One set nicknamed the Sons of Thunder? And in fact, James and John were known for being competitive. They once took Jesus aside and requested the number two and number three positions in whatever it was that Jesus was hatching. They weren’t even sure exactly what it was, but they were sure that they deserved to have higher positions than the others. Jesus’ next conscript was Matthew. Matthew was not, thank heavens, a fisherman. Had he been a fisherman, it would have complexified group dynamics beyond confusion. Matthew was, rather, a toll collector. This, in fact, would have clarified group dynamics. The four fishermen now had a common enemy. Toll collectors were collaborators with Rome. Not only did they collect tolls from the peoples Rome occupied to pay for their use of Roman roads, but they were notorious for overcharging then skimming off the top. Where there is money, of course, corruption is in the wings. The fishermen may have had their personality flaws – birth order issues, delusions of grandeur, and the like -- but at least they were not traitors and thieves. No doubt the plot thickened with the conscript Judas. Judas was a zealot. You could say that zealots were the opposite of toll collectors. Toll collectors were collaborationists. Zealots were insurrectionists. Zealots opposed Roman occupation with fanatical and violent zeal – hence the name zealot. Their modus operandi was guerrilla warfare. They were known to have mingled among crowds with daggers concealed in their cloaks with which they stabbed Roman sympathizers. This definitely discouraged Roman sympathizers. Rome, in turn, invented the crucifix to discourage Zealots. You can imagine the dynamics between Matthew the collaborationist and Judas the rebel - not exactly kissing cousins. And then there were the rest of the conscripts – Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, James, the son of Alphaeus, Thaddaeus, and Simon. Not much is written about them, because there was probably not much to write. We could presume them to be slackers. All Thomas is known for, for example, is his doubt. Yes, the newly called conscripts made up a decidedly ragtag corps. It’s a wonder they could be in the same room together. As far as I can make out, they had but one thing in common. They all hoped to get something out of Jesus. They had taken a risk in reporting for duty, albeit not much of one. They didn’t have that much to lose. A toll collector? A zealot? A quartet of fishermen? A handful of slackers? They definitely had more to gain than to lose. But none the less they had taken a risk in reporting for duty. None of them were quite sure what Jesus was establishing, but he was establishing something, and in taking a risk in reporting for duty, they had staked their claim. And now it was payoff time. Jesus was finally getting down to brass tacks. He had made a name for himself throughout all the land through his provocative words and works. He had processed into Jerusalem to public accolades. He had captured the interest of every Jew in the city. The momentum made it certain. The disciples would now receive what they hoped to get out of Jesus. Visions danced in their heads – the fishermen, of prestigious appointments; the toll collector, of money; the zealot, of the overthrow of Rome; the slackers, of sinecures. Jesus had gathered them all together in one room. Their eyes were fixed on him with anticipation. And what did Jesus do? He washed their feet. Peter, true to his personality, would have none of it. That was a servant’s job, and a servant’s most menial job - to wash feet caked with sweat and dirt and dust. Peter sat stupefied with horror as Jesus took off his outer robe and kneeled down before him, “Lord are you’re going to wash my feet?” he cried in dismay. Jesus persevered, saying, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Jesus tried to impress upon his disciples again and again that even in their incomprehension they must trust him, but it was always for naught, as it was now. Peter declared defiantly, “You will never wash my feet.” But Jesus was not to be dissuaded. “Unless I wash your feet, you have no share in me.” Jesus was now threatening to disown Peter, and this was not lost on him. He repented immediately, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” But Jesus’ intention was not to be altered. And so, he washed their feet. And when he had finished, he attempted to explain why he had done so. “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. I have set an example that you should do as I have done to you.” So that was it? That was what they were going to get out of Jesus? Jesus was nothing more than a servant, and they were expected to be the servants of a servant? There’s only one way it could have been any worse. They could have been expected to be the servants of a servant of a servant. Had they had time to consider the matter, they would have surely decided to pack it in. First thing in the morning, it would have been back to the nets, back to the toll booth, back to schemes to overthrow Rome, back to the slacking. But they hadn’t time to consider the matter. Before the next day dawned Jesus was arrested by his enemies, and the chain of events was set in motion that would lead to his execution. All this renders downright inexplicable that some few weeks later, Peter and John, no longer ragtag in any sense of the word, now in perfect harmony of purpose, were about the streets of Jerusalem healing in Jesus’ name. For instance, they encountered a crippled beggar at the gates of the temple, that same temple that Jesus had lately cleansed. Peter declared to him, “I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you, in the name of Jesus Christ, stand up and walk.” And he did. And not only were they healing in Jesus’ name, they had taken up Jesus’ cause over against his enemies. And when Jesus’ enemies began to persecute the disciples as they had Jesus, Peter with perfect courage of conviction, proclaimed, “If we are questioned because of a good deed done to someone who was sick…let be known to all of you, that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ, whom you crucified, but whom God raised from death…. ‘the stone that was rejected by the builder, has become the corner stone.’ There is salvation in no one else.” The disciples had become servants of the servant - and with no hesitation, reluctance, trepidation, or equivocation. Just the opposite, in fact. They were sure. They were enthusiastic. They were fearless. They were convicted. And so, what did the disciples come to learn between then and now? They came to learn the qualitative difference between what they wanted to get out of Jesus and what Jesus wanted to get out of them. What they wanted to get out of Jesus was in service to themselves. It was, therefore, selfish. And it was worthless, really, of no real value or substance. It would live with them so long as they lived, and then it would die with them. But what Jesus wanted to get out of them was service to humankind in his way of redemption. It was, therefore, selfless. And it was worthy, of real value and substance. And, yes, it would live with them so long as they lived, but it would never die, just as he never died. It was just like he had taught. It was a treasure hidden in a field which someone found and, in his joy went and sold all he had to buy that field. It was the one pearl of great value who someone sold all he had to buy. And learning the qualitative difference between what they wanted to get out of Jesus and what Jesus wanted to get out of them, learning the qualitative difference between service to themselves and service to humankind in his way of redemption made all the difference in their lives. And it makes all the difference in our lives as well. Friends, he conscripts us too to be servants of the servant; and so, “Be imitators of Christ, and live in love, as Christ loves us and gave himself up for us…” Amen.